


Roots In The Air

by Interrobang



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, brotherly fart jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 22:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: Hanzo and Genji try to plant a tree.





	Roots In The Air

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Patreon, but I thought it was so cute I just had to share.

The Watchpoint was getting a garden. 

It was Bastion’s idea — they’d wanted something small to tend to when the weather was nice. Just a few potted plants, maybe a bird bath for Ganymede. Of course, everyone else was ecstatic about the idea once it was introduced, and before long the project had expanded way beyond the original blueprint. Lena wanted ivy to cover some of the ugly half-broken walls around the watchpoint. Hana and McCree wanted five kinds of chilis. Lúcio wanted aloe, Jack wanted corn...it all added up. 

Somehow Genji and Hanzo ended up heading the shopping expedition to pick up all the actual plants. Farmboy Jack had gone and gotten the equipment needed for them, but Genji and Hanzo were left to pick up the greenery.

There could not have been two worse people to assign to the task.

“They must know we’ve never planted anything before,” Hanzo said dryly, trying not to sweat in the spring air as he and Genji wandered through the garden center.

“You mean  _ you’ve  _ never planted anything before,” Genji scoffed. “I helped the Shambali tend to some medicinal herbs at the temple.”

“But did you put them there? Raise them from seed?”

“Well…” Genji hesitated, sweating under his helmet. “I watered them. And pulled the weeds.”

“Hmph. My point stands,” Hanzo said gruffly. 

Truth told, there was more than one reason why the two of them were bad representatives to pick out plants. They were reluctant to talk to each other at length, and the trip to town to pick up all the plants had been a long one, fraught with silence.

They hadn’t even been in the same space as each other for more than an hour or two in the months since Hanzo had shown up at the Watchpoint, and even then there were usually other people with them. Hanzo may have decided to start his path to redemption at Genji’s side, but it was still excruciatingly awkward between them. 

They picked at old wounds sometimes, jabbing with words and pointed looks that relayed their history in the flick of an eyebrow or a bared tooth. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along. They wanted to. They tried.

But they were different people now. Like puzzles that had been rearranged with the original pieces. The frame was recognizable, but it was something entirely new on the inside. And Genji and Hanzo were having trouble figuring out just what their brother looked like now. 

“There. Chinese pepper seeds.” Hanzo pointed at a rack of vegetable seeds. “And jalapenos.” 

“They probably won’t have negi,” Genji said wistfully. “But maybe scallions? Or eggplant?”

“You like eggplant?” Hanzo asked incredulously. “You used to spit it out when we had it for dinner. Or feed it to the dog.”

“I’ve acquired a taste for it recently,” Genji replied. “I travelled all over when I left Overwatch. I spent some time in China — lots of eggplant there — and a few months in Italy. I’ve grown to like it.”

“China!” Hanzo exclaimed. “I was there for three years, tracking a drug lord’s supply route. I wonder if we would have met.”

“I doubt it,” Genji said, shaking his head as he sifted through packets of seeds. “I was not in good shape. I took refuge in an omnic slum. I was not, uh, in a good way at the time.”

“I see,” Hanzo said, somewhat subdued. He plucked out packets of chili seeds and some chinese eggplant, tucking them into the tote bag he held. 

After an awkward silence in which both brothers looked at plants — or anything really, as long as it was not each other — Genji huffed a stiff laugh and turned to the vegetable seed rack. 

“Jack’s stuff should be nearby. You find that, I’ll...hey.” Genji smacked Hanzo’s bicep lightly to get his attention. “Trees!”

He pointed across the center to a clearing in the midst of the fenced-in shop. A neat cluster of saplings, each in its own wide pot, was labeled and standing about waist-high, ready for sale. Genji loped over before Hanzo could stop him. 

“No one requested a tree,” Hanzo said with a frown as Genji started prodding and poking the saplings, looking for...who knew what? Hanzo certainly didn’t know what to look for in a tree. “Just vegetables and herbs.”

“Yes, but  _ you  _ haven’t asked for anything yet,” Genji reminded him. “You should get one.”

“What would I do with a tree?” Hanzo asked. “It’s too small to sit under.”

“For now,” Genji said with a shrug. “It’ll grow.” He pulled at the tags around the branches of a couple a couple of the saplings. “Look, this one is a Japanese cherry tree. Just like home.”

Hanzo huffed a laugh. “Right. Then...you still think of it as home?”

“In a way,” Genji admitted. “It’s where I was born. It’s where I started. Roots, you know. They’re important. Just because I have branched out a bit doesn’t mean I do not know where I came from.”

“It was a beautiful place, wasn’t it?” Hanzo ask wistfully. He walked around the collection of saplings, searching for some spark among them. 

“I used to take girls out to view the trees from the estate’s hill,” Genji said with a sigh. “Though we did not do much viewing...” He frowned. “Or talking.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Half of those were fake anyway, Genji.”

“The girls were very real, I assure you,” Genji said with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

“The trees, Genji — many of them were lamps designed to look like trees.”

“What?” Genji blinked, taken aback. He stopped in his tracks and turned to his brother. “No they weren’t. We had landscapers.”

“There were the real ones, which had roots, and there were the artificial ones with lights the size of a grain of rice, plus the holo-flowers —”

“No!” Genji gasped. “Everyone used to brag about Hanamura’s year-round cherry blossoms! It’s famous for it!”

“A farce,” Hanzo said firmly. “Or a euphemism for the power of the Shimada. Much of our childhood was an illusion, brother.”

“I see.” Genji’s face fell. He stared at the trees around them, swaying with the dark reddish black branches. “There was much I did not know about our home, then.”

“Yes,” Hanzo said sadly. “Unfortunately.” Then he took a deep breath. “But we can make our own future now. Let’s get a tree. Maybe when it’s stronger we can sit under it together.”

“With friends?”

Hanzo grinned. “And perhaps a picnic.”

—

At first the tree did very well. Genji and Hanzo got it in the ground without too much of a fuss. Hanzo even commented on how easy it was to plant it, considering how daunting a task it had once seemed. Angela and Lena built birdhouses — and of course Ganymede had gotten his bird bath. Torbjorn and Brigitte even built a bench to put in the little green space.

As the tree grew, Genji and Hanzo’s relationship seemed to grow as well. They tended to the tree together, making sure it was always watered and weeded. Tending to the tree turned into drinks on the bench by the vegetable beds; drinks turned into long walks and long talks. And long talks turned into scuffles and laughter long overdue.

The weeks went on, and the little tree grew. It put out little buds that promised flowers as the cool spring turned to warmer weather. It waved in the clear sea air, casting a long shadow in the evening as the sun went down on the other side of the cliff. 

“We have made a good place,” Hanzo said from his place by the firepit Torbjorn had added in at the last minute. It had been a few weeks since the garden had started coming together. It was still a work in progress — Jack wanted paver stones to fill in the paths, while Reinhardt was partial to installing a water feature— but it looked good.

“I’ll drink to that,” McCree said, raising his bottle of beer. 

“I can’t wait until we can eat it all!” Brigitte exclaimed. “Fresh carrots — do you think Mama will give us the recipe for her roast, Papa?”

“We’ll see,” Torbjorn said gruffly. “She’s kept it a secret this long — who knows if she’ll give it up.”

“Yes!” Reinhardt proclaimed. “We need meat! We can roast it right here, and perhaps if we install a table —”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Torbjorn cut in. “Plants first. Outdoor dining room second.”

“Speaking of which…” Hana cut in. “Genji. Hanzo. Your tree’s dying.”

“What?” The two brothers whipped around to where Hana was standing by the small sapling. 

“It looks fine to me,” Hanzo said. “It has flowers.”

“Yeah,  _ rotting  _ flowers,” Hana replied. She pointed at the yellowing buds on the end of one small branch. “And it’s falling over.”

“No it’s not,” Genji said quickly. “It just has character. Like that little Christmas tree from that old cartoon movie.”

“Nope,” Jack cut in, walking over to look at it. “It’s as dead as the bench Brigitte made, or close to it.”

Hanzo stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“Give the boys a chance,” McCree cut in. “What did y’all do when you put it in there?”

“We dug a hole, took it out of its pot, and put it in the hole. And then we covered it.”

“How deep did you put it?” McCree asked. 

Right near the top?” Genji looked confused. “We didn’t want to put it too deep. Were we not supposed to?”

“Did you loosen the root ball?” Jack asked them.

Hanzo stared at him blankly. “What is a root ball?”

Genji stared at Hanzo. Hanzo stared back.

“We...put mulch on it,” Genji said hopefully. “To keep the weeds out.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Jack said. “You piled up a volcano of the stuff around the base. I swept it out to stop your tree from suffocating.”

“What about watering it? You have to water it,” Brigitte added.

“Oh!” Hanzo beamed. “We put a puddle in the hole before the tree so that it would have plenty of water.”

A round of gasps interrupted the nighttime insects’ songs. 

“Sorry, Laddie, but Jack’s right,” Torbjorn said gently. “Your sapling’s no more thriving than the wood for the birdhouses we built yesterday.”

Genji turned to his brother, slinging his arm around Hanzo’s visibly sunken shoulders. “It’s okay, Hanzo, we can —”

“How can you be okay with this?” Hanzo burst out, teary-eyed. “How can you comfort me? I knew I was good for nothing but death, but this —” He sucked in a deep breath. “It is worse than I thought.”

He fled.

“Hanzo!” Genji called after his brother. He dashed away from the fire pit, the gloom of summer night closing around him as he searched for his brother.

He found Hanzo in a small corner of the Watchpoint’s outer edge— a corner of the exterior wall that led to nowhere. Hanzo was crouched on the bare dirt, hands gripping knees and staring blankly at the ground.

“Hanzo…” Genji said softly. He gently put his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, ready to retreat should Hanzo lash out. But the barbs did not come.

“I am a murderer,” Hanzo said succinctly. He looked up at Genji with red eyes, as if he had been fighting back tears. “I killed you, and then I fooled myself into thinking I could sustain life another way —”

“You did no such thing,” Genji scoffed. “We planted the tree together. I am at fault as much as you are.”

“But I — my body is good for nothing,” Hanzo spat. “I can’t even breathe life into a tiny sapling —”

“ _ Hanzo _ .” Genji pulled Hanzo up onto shaky legs. He grasped his brother’s shoulders so that he could look Hanzo square in the face.

“...Yes?” Hanzo gasped, trying to slow his panicked breathing. 

“You need to cut this Edward Cullen skin-of-a-killer shit out. Please, for once in your life, just  _ chill.”  _

_ “... _ What?” Hanzo blinked, his eyes finally clearing. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You are not a killer. Clearly you failed at your task, and clearly I have thrived. Neither of us knew how to take care of a tree. It is a miracle it did not die sooner.”

“And?” Hanzo scowled. “How does this disprove my statement?”

“Because I also failed to grow a real tree. Did you know I used to water some of the trees in Hanamura? The ones you said were fake?”

“Foolishness,” Hanzo scoffed.

Genji grinned. “Yeah. Really foolish. But I still did it. I wanted them to grow. And I still want to grow with  _ you _ , brother — for the same reasons.”

“Why?” Hanzo asked suspiciously.

“Because neither of us is qualified to even take care of a tamagotchi, let alone another adult human being. Perhaps we can try again — and get some advice from the others before we take on anything crazy.”

—

Two weeks later:

“It is a good thing Reinhardt got his fountain,” Genji said cheerfully as he and Hanzo wandered the garden center’s grounds. “We will not have to run back and forth to the kitchen for bucketfuls of water this time.”

“That was a ridiculous system to begin with,” Hanzo agreed. “We would have had to put in a tap eventually.”

“ _ And  _ Jack put in rain barrels,” Genji continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Perhaps we will even get frogs!”

“You like frogs too much,” Hanzo teased. He shoved his brother good-naturedly as they walked through the displays of potted plants. “Perhaps a certain someone has influenced you?”

Genji shoved Hanzo back. “You leave Lúcio out of this!”

“I definitely did not mention any names,” Hanzo said with a shit-eating grin. “However! We have a task to complete. What are we here for, brother?”

“Flowers,” Genji said seriously, standing up straight. “Something simple. Jack said lavender would work well.”

Hanzo frowned at the display in front of them. There were seeds, potted shoots…

“What kind?”

“Any kind, I think,” Genji said. “As long as it smells good…”

“There are six kinds of lavender here,” Hanzo said with a frown. “Should we ask someone —?”

“Do you think we’ll get bees?” Genji cut in as Hanzo inspected the different labels on the potted purple flowers in front of them.

“If we get bees Mei might take over — then we can have honey. And —“ 

They looked at each other. 

Then, together, “Honeycakes.”

Genji licked his lips. “With ice cream.”

Hanzo made a face. “You are lactose intolerant. Your farts will kill us all.”

“Better to die a gaseous death than to live without dessert. At least I know how to indulge.” Genji fired back. He poked at a pot of flowers. “Can we eat these?”

Hanzo smirked. “I’ll have you know I ate an entire cake for dinner last Christmas. As a  _ snack _ .”

“Brother.” Genji stared at him flatly. “I am...very happy for you. But you  _ know  _ that’s not something to brag about, right?”

“Then find me something I  _ can  _ brag about,” Hanzo griped, scowling. “If cake and longest-without-a-shower are now off-limits.”

“Honestly, I was more disgusted to learn that Hana has gone longer than you,” Genji said easily. “Brother, can we eat these? I was serious. I want to eat the flowers.”

“We can eat —” Hanzo consulted his phone. “The roses. Genji.” He looked at his brother seriously. “We need roses. To make rose syrup. To put on our honey toast...With our ice cream.”

Genji sighed. “We are going to die from diabetes.”

“At least we’ll die together?” Hanzo asked cautiously.

Genji laughed so hard that, for a minute, Hanzo thought perhaps he was broken. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @hhgggx or on Twitter @GoInterrobang to find out more about upcoming projects!


End file.
